


"I Miss You Too"

by K_Fiction_Therapy



Category: GOT7
Genre: 2Jae, Choi Youngjae-centric, Dry Humping, Erotica, Fanfiction, Fic, Fiction, GOT7 - Freeform, I Ship It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, K-Pop - Freeform, K-pop References, Korean, Male Masturbation, Male Solo, Masturbation, Mentioned Im Jaebum - Freeform, Music, NSFW, One Shot, Orgasm, Other, Pillow Grind, Pillow Grinding, Pillow Hump, Shy Choi Youngjae, Smut, Solo, Solo Kink, Texting, Whiny Choi Youngjae, cum, humping, i miss you, kpop, pillow humping, solo masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Fiction_Therapy/pseuds/K_Fiction_Therapy





	"I Miss You Too"

The spring had brought with it no flowers, no sun, only snow and wind-chaffed skin. The air cut as deeply to the bone as a knife and the more layers one put on, the better. Most everyone looked modest and covered up, afraid to show even a sliver of skin or else it would turn red from the cold. This suited a certain snub-nosed, handsome vocalist just fine.

Choi Youngjae was nothing if not a modest human being. He rarely indulged in the sorts of things that the other boys did and even speaking of those things aloud brought a deep blush to his rounded cheeks–so naturally, the multiple layers made him feel comforted and one of the flock as he walked into the lobby of the hotel that he’d been put up in, eyes sliding to the people around him who entered as well, shedding layers of clothing like little mollusks shed skin. Youngjae wore a mask over his face to protect his identity in the lobby, but once he was in the elevator, he slid it down just under his chin, the line of it catching just under his jaw, accentuating the shape of it.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he checked it quickly, ignoring the messages and notifications from social media in favor of answering a quick text from Jaebum with a soft smile. He pushed the device back into his pocket and exited the elevator when the doors opened, a ding signaling that he had reached the appropriate floor. Padding down the hall, Youngjae felt wider in his thick black jacket, sweater and undershirt, lumbering a bit from the layers. His key-card gave him multiple issues before he finally figured out how to open the door, pushing the door open with his shoulder, his bag in tow.

Inside the room, it was warm and Youngjae felt hugged by how cozy it seemed–which was odd considering that the room was only a temporary living space. Laying his jacket and bag down on the second bed, he turned, hands raising to push back and part his dark hair, using his fingers to gently sway it to either side of his face, the curl of his lip whetted by his tongue to stop it being slightly chilled. Sniffling, he smiled and dropped his hands, fiddling with the hem of his sweater before rolling it up and over his shoulders and off his head with a gentle pop, laying it atop his jacket.

Now standing in a white t-shirt and fitted blue denim jeans, he lifted his hands into the air, arms going above his head in a stretch, his shirt lifting, showing the soft expanse of his stomach and naval, gentle brown hair peeking from beneath the waistband of his underwear which showed a deep navy just over the line of his pants. Giving a grunt, which barely left his throat, he whined a high pitched sound and then rolled the tingle from the stretch down his body, wiggling in place before relaxing, “Mm…” He whispered to himself as he grabbed his phone and plopped down on the bed, the thick of his legs and backside causing the bed to shift under his weight.

Jaebum had texted back and Youngjae read it aloud, a soft tone, “I miss you, Youngjae.” He gave an awkward laugh, which got stuck oddly in his throat, his lips peeling open to allow the strange croak of a sound to leave him. He sat the phone down without responding, figuring it was too late, and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The thought of the text made him smirk, bashful, so he rolled again, hiding his face in one of the pillows, the other situated under his chest. Making a gentle snuffling sound against the fabric of it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes.

Inside of his mind’s eye, Youngjae focused on primal things: Soft, rigid skin, lip biting and a controlled breathy voice in the dark. Clothed hips lifting from the bed, he bashfully pushed at the pillow under his chest until it met the thick top of his thighs, his plush backside in the air from the elevation the pillow gave him. The press of it alone was enough to have him whimpering into the soft bedsheets, not used to doing this often. Youngjae had always been sensitive to the touch and to friction, the softest shift of his hips sending his mind whirring.

Bringing his hands back up toward the head of the bed, he curled the length of his digits around the edge of the mattress and breathed out a shaky sound, the thick of his thighs tensing as he arched his back and brought his hips down, rotating them to rub against the pillow from behind the fabric of his pants, “O-oh…” he whimpered, lips open against the pillow so he could breathe without hindrance.

It wasn’t long before his toes were curling and his hips rocked with fervor against the pillow beneath his hips, forcing it into the bed with each flex of his backside and legs, the power behind them surprising. With a gasp, he sat up, lifting up and off of the pillow a moment. Elevated to his knees, toes in the bed, he stared down at himself, strained against the zipper of his pants, testing the strength of it. Curled upward, the thick underside of his girth showed in strong lines, pulsing against fabric with no mercy. For a moment, he gingerly touched along the shape, his free hand rubbing at his chest atop his shirt, the flesh of a nipple perking to the affections, making Youngjae quiver and mewl, his knees trembling. He was already so close–he would blame the lack of experience. With a huff, he dropped back down, hips immediately beginning a relentless rhythm, high pitched noises trailing from his throat, his tongue touching the inner line of his bottom lip, eyes half lidded and clouded with need.

The bed creaked and strained, Youngjae’s back arching into a sinful curve, his knuckles white as he gripped the bed for stability. A light glistening of sweat had appeared on his brows, catching light as they wrinkled, eyelids fluttering as he grew closer and closer. “Y-yes, p-please.” English at a time like this; it just came out in a heated plea, begging. The squeaking of the bed became deafening and the wood of the headboard beat against the wall, commingling with the exponential, growing whines that left his lips. Pleasure cracked into him like a whip and he made sounds that didn’t even register to him as they pushed from him, “Ke-ke-ahhhh-nnnnnn…A-ah, Ye!” He cried out as his hips stilled and he trembled against the pillow, hips helpless as pleasure slammed into him, his orgasm hitting him in sickeningly strong waves, soaking the entirety of the front of his jeans and the casing of the pillow. He keened, preening against the bed, his mouth wide open and throat dry from whining.

He felt that if he moved, he would be so sensitive that it would literally hurt, so he rode out the waves of aftershock, the muscles of his thighs tensing and releasing, causing the plump surface of his backside to tremble, jiggling even while covered in pants. Breathing hard, he relaxed, collapsing against the bed, the warm and wet feeling at his groin making him chuckle, the awkward sound returning.

Youngjae couldn’t move for several minutes, but when he finally did, it was only far enough to grab his phone, turning it on with a click. With fingers, twitchy from pleasure, he typed back, “I miss you too, Jaebum-ah.” and then locked his phone, dropping it onto the bed with limp fingers, breathing out harshly.


End file.
